


Fix You

by sillsif



Series: All I Ask Of You (Joker/Crane) [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:05:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillsif/pseuds/sillsif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You learn what you need for your life in high school, people always say. It was a lie, apparently, for it would not be logical to have university after that. But for some people, what they experienced in high school truly contributed a lot to the rest of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Highschool AU.

You learn what you need for your life in high school, people always say. It was a lie, apparently, for it would not be logical to have university after that. But for some people, what they experienced in high school truly contributed a lot to the rest of their lives.

Jonathan Crane was one of those students who never fit in anywhere. Not in class, not in the corridors, not even when he hid himself in the library. He always seemed weary, scrawny and disorientated – mostly because of his bone structure, those cheek bones which created shadows on his face and those cold hollow blue eyes which seemed to look right through people and their disguise.

School was not easy for him. He was not worried about grades; studying was never a problem to him. What truly did bother him were people. Other people.

“God damn freak!” A few classmates dragged him out of the classroom by lunch time this day – not that they were especially stronger than him, Crane was so skinny and light that any normal person could easily lift him off the ground – and locked him up in the storage room. “Faggot, stay away from us!” They punched him just to make sure they had the power over him, some merely stood there and watched, some called him names, awful names; then someone thought that it was not enough. So they brought a bucket of water, pressed the defenseless boy’s face into the freezing temperature, grabbing his wrists so he could not fight back.

“I think he’s out,” spoke some boy who apparently was most of a coward of them all, yet pretending to be a ‘wise’ leader knowing when to stop, not wanting to make this into a killing, “Let’s go.” The others listened, pulled Crane’s head out of the bucket then pouring all the water onto the boy lying on the concrete floor, laughing at the unconscious as they proceeded to the door.

AHA, AHA-HA-HA.

Then they heard laughter – fake laughs, somehow intimidating in the way how it remained and rang within your chest – and they were alarmed. “Someone’s there watching.” One of those boys hissed, a sense of rage and fear consuming him. “Probably just another freak. Let’s teach him a lesson too.” The seemed leader strode towards the source of laughter which continued to taunt them, clearly ignorant of what there was awaiting him. By the very moment he reached without looking to grab whoever was there hiding, a sharp pain cut through his palm, leaving his lame comment on the awkward green hair all to himself.

“Do not invade my space, you hear me?” The hiding boy stood up, pointing his razor to the neck of the leader, the other hand grabbing onto his neck before he could flee. “Shhhh, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” He said, sarcastically comforting the injured boy as he looked obviously frightened and in pain. As the boy was now standing, he glanced over to see the unconscious lying there still, looking as white as a sheet, then he started to stare. He raised an eyebrow, grinning as he hummed, his grip loosening due to the distraction. “Let… let go of me, you freak!” The boy apparently noticed that, so he seized the chance to push away the arm in front of him freeing himself, yet receiving another cut deep and long on his arm as the other responded.

“Oops. I wasn’t paying attention.” The greenish-blonde grinned and spoke with sarcasm, watching the leader whimpering while he ran towards the exit with his gang. He laughed again, this time more sharply and high-pitched, probably really taking joy of the scene. He laughed so hard that he sat down beside the unconscious, then he stopped laughing, staring at Crane.

“Stop faking or I will stick my razor in your mouth.” He growled, pressing the blade to the cheek of the other boy. The next second Crane’s eyes shot open, glaring up at the other without fear, those ice blue eyes burning with threat. “Oh, you seem to be more of what they assume you to be,” the other boy smirked, moving his razor away, unconsciously licking his lips in an awkward manner, “All that acting, you could win Oscar, you know.” Crane sat up, still dripping wet; he apparently was alive, even if he was shivering from the deadly freeze.

“That was quite impressing, how long you managed to hold your breath,” the boy laughed, tossing his weapon up and down as he spoke. Crane watched, distracted by the way he managed to control the razor as if it was a part of him, then he spoke, “They were idiots. They didn’t hear your giggles over their own laughing.”

The other boy stopped with the tossing, narrowing his eyes as he leant closer to gaze intensely into those blue eyes, trying to look for any sign or trace of something – something, yet he himself having no idea what it could be at all. “Interesting.” Crane flinched as the other reached out a hand to him, then just figuring he was trying to wipe away the blood stains under his bleeding nose. “Oh.” He looked down at his shirt, all wet and stained with blood, then leaving a painful gasp as he rubbed a hand across his broken nose.

He was forced to kneel for so long that his knees were sore and legs were numb, not being able to further move himself due to all the pain on his body. “What are you doing here?” It annoyed him, the way the other boy stared at him. He noticed the greenish blonde locks of him, wondering who on earth would have chosen that colour; it was not that he had a problem with it, he merely realized that this boy was somehow different from to others. Not that he was one of those nice guys, apparently not. He was dangerous and complex, as far as Crane could tell all this time observing him since he started talking.

“Is that any of your business?” He asked rhetorically, smirking and showing no sign of leaving. Crane remembered his vision at last blurring due to the coldness and pain, but most probably due to his hunger, then he saw merely blackness. He remembered merely slightly soft chuckles and the touch of another human being’s warmth, the peaceful feeling of resting in somewhere safe.

As he woke, he found himself lying calm and still on those white sheets of the infirmary, his clothes dry and clean, but then all alone again.


	2. Chapter 2

The mysterious boy with a razor was called Jack. Crane did not find out himself; it was those boys who attacked him who did, then ‘telling’ him not to be so sure that he would be safe only because he had ‘Jack the freak’ backing him up. But it was not the case. It was never the case.

No one ever did back him up. Not that he would complain about it; not that he needed any backup. These people just did not know what Jonathan Crane could do; who would expect a scrawny sneaky nerd to be capable of killing? Crane somehow was interested, after being beaten up again, interested in the boy whose hair shone as golden locks under the sun… But then he could not recall, when did he actually have met the boy under the sun? All he could recall was the cold concrete floor in the storage room, then somehow, fingers in his hair… It seemed somehow surreal and he suspected his own memories. Was he having illusions?

One day while he was walking across the crowded corridors, he happened to glance over one of the classrooms, staring into somebody’s eyes without intention. It was him, grinning as he saw Crane too, playing with his deck of cards. Then he looked away, seemingly naturally and all, smiling in such a manner as if he never did hide razors under his coat. Crane immediately knew, he was the strong kind in the violent turbulences of the world; being able to wear a mask whenever he wanted to. Crane forgot where he was going as he stood and stared, then fleeing in an irrational panic as Jack lifted his eyes and looked right into his eyes once more.

He fled down the building, passing his destinated library door without even a glance at it, he had the urge to go back to his hiding place, where he would always be safe. As a student, his room was all he could afford; he tried to find an old classroom, at best an abandoned chemistry laboratory, so he could do his little experiments from time to time, not needing to be overly cautious of the smell of chemicals alerting the other students within the same building. He had to settle, to keep the windows and doors always closed and locked, so the scent would not spread. Sure it damaged his system quite badly, his overly pale appearance telling it quite well. People would assume him being always sick, permanently carrying some serious disease, laughing at him as if even terminal cancer would be a joke if found on Jonathan Crane.

No one really did care about his health, not even he himself. He had not eaten in days, just like last week when he fainted after the assault. Usually he would not be relaxed enough to let himself fall unconscious before some stranger; not even if he had known the person, for he hardly had ever met someone who was nice to him, he never trusted anyone now. The event of himself passing out in front of Jack, then the whole memory being inaccessible to him terrified him. He was so anxious while he rushed to open the door, not realizing that he was being followed, so as the stalker grabbed him from behind and dragged him inside the room then slamming the door shut, he gasped in a weird mixture of fear and thrill, all but surprised.

“Hmm… You are really interesting, Jonathan,” the attacked spoke, Crane recognized him immediately, yet the hand muzzling him from calling out the name, “What is this strong odor in your room, I wonder?” Jack looked straight into the cold blue eyes of Crane’s, grinning as his expression turned into that of a twisted maniac’s, revealing himself as he is. Crane gasped for air as the hand slid from his mouth to his neck, those rough fingertips digging into the boy’s pale skin, leaving red marks. “It- it’s none of your business.” Struggling to pull away the strong grip, Crane clenched his teeth and scratched and pulled, yet him being so malnourished he could hardly gather any strength which was comparable to his current opponent. “Hm, a little fighter, huh?” Jack smirked lightly, Crane heard, realizing the unnatural closeness between them. He flinched while being restricted from big movements as the other boy buried his nose in his hair and sniffed. He shivered as the tip of Jack’s nose brushed against his ear lobe; softly he left out a whimper which left him embarrassed as he heard the other boy laugh.

“You smell like this room,” Jack stated, letting go of Crane yet not showing any sign of leaving, “Chemicals, drugs… I suppose you are not the type for explosives, right? Doctor.” Crane glared at the unwanted invader, gritting his teeth, he reminded himself of the last incident his shared with Jack; it would not be wise to pick up a fight with him. But what is it that he wanted from Crane? Feeling weak in his knees again, Crane stepped forward to open a drawer, pulling out one of his disposable syringes, then a small glass of drug. Pushing the needle into the tiny opening on the top of the glass can, he filled the syringe with the transparent drug. He tripped as he approached his bed, the syringe falling out of his grip while he landed on the soft pillow and mattress. Not again, he thought, not in front of him again.

“Oh, poor Jonny,” Jack smirked and picked up the syringe, examined it for a brief second then imitating the way Crane held the syringe in his hand, two fingers affixing the syringe to the hand, then the third finger – his thumb, to be exact – placing gently over the point which was the injection manner. “Do you need my help?” Crane’s stomach hurt, yet that was tolerable; his spinning mind was not. He needed to clear his mind before he could start researching over his secret toxins, but now he was about to faint again.

Jack did not wait for him to reply. He made eye contact with Crane, staring as he approached the boy on the bed, gasping and his eyes half-closed. He turned Crane over so he lied there on his back, then taking his arm, checking for the veins before he injected the boy with whatever drug he had prepared. Then he merely sat there and stared, and Crane stared back, his consciousness coming back to him finally. They somehow knew something about each other. Crane had never felt this way, to find someone who seemed to understand your thoughts and thought all the same. Jack sat there for a while, playing with his deck of cards and occasionally checking if Crane felt better.

Crane apparently felt so much better having his glucose injected. He merely continued lying there because deeply he had the slight hope for someone to look after him when he was ill or broken. He knew, Jack would never mean anything good in his actions. It was merely a silly thought, a silly wish. His new wounds started to hurt, but he was too tired to take care of them then and there. Let them hurt, he thought, let them hurt.


	3. Chapter 3

Smiling was hard for Jonathan Crane. It used to be very hard, not having the reason to smile, not feeling that emotion in his heart at all. Now that he was laughing, he could not stop. Why was he laughing? He was running from people, but laughing. What was so funny?

Those bullies came for him again, as expected. This time they did not get what they want. This time they learnt a lesson, a lesson which should be learnt for so long. They thought the boy was fleeing mindlessly as he ran into the forest, laughing as they chased him with baseball bats in their hands. It would be useful, Crane thought as he glanced back from his running. He laughed, for his prey not knowing their fate. He lead them deep into the woods, so deep that the crowns of the trees blocked the sun, the moisture in the air thickening, making it harder and harder to breath.

“This is a fucking creepy place, man!” One of them hissed, hinting his want to leave. “Stop running, you faggot!” Crane heard the noises in the woods, those noises of nature which sounded so peaceful to him; to them, it would soon be hell. He tripped, intentionally, whimpering as he tried to get onto his feet but failing. One of those boys grabbed him by the collar, his shirt was ragged, yet he just looked back right into the others eyes, pulled himself even closer as he held his breath and pointed his gas container to the attacker.

The boy closed his eyes tightly as the gas sprayed in front of him, the hissing sound alerting the others. “What the heck is that?” The gassed boy fell, gasping for air but only inhaling more of the toxins, soon he starting to mumble and whimper. “Oh god, no, no, no… NO!” “You freak, what did you do-“ Crane crawled away from the boy, grinning at the scene, then by reflex he sprayed the toxin to the other boys who came up to him, wanting to beat him up.

“You thought you were strong,” he mumbled, getting up onto his feet as the bullies were now all on the ground, he laughed so hard as the one of the boys started to cry, “Oh please, now you are crying. Never thought that the scrawny boy could fight back, did you?” He never talked a lot; never did he felt like talking. He sometimes would fake a few pathetic pleads, just to convince the bullies he was indeed a defenseless quiet school boy.

“I wonder what it is that you see.” He walked over to the boys, picking up their baseball bats, smudging his face just to find out the mud on his face, probably there because of the fake fall he had. He knelt down in front of the leader, forcing the boy to look into his eyes, “Now tell me, what do you see?” The boy screamed as he saw Crane’s face, the face covered with mud here and there which was turning into a fierce monster in his hallucinations. “Go away, monster!” Crane laughed, shrugging as he stood up again, “Not quite different from what you said before.”

“This is a beautiful place, isn’t it?” He looked up to the blocked sky, only shades of shadows reaching the mud and leaves they step on. He closed his eyes just to listen to the swaying of leaves and branches, but the whimpering and moaning started to filled the woods, the sense of peace leaving him instantly. He picked up one of the bats, holding it firmly in his palms, swinging it back and forth as he stepped closer to the leader.

“I wonder if you have any idea what is going to happen,” he spoke softly, looking at the boy who managed to get up on fours and crawl, the crying still echoing in Crane’s ears, “You know, your cries are the most annoying I’ve ever heard. Would you like to stop, perhaps?” He swung the bat again, aiming to some inches ahead of the boy’s skull, then again and again, getting closer and closer.

Then suddenly he stopped the swinging, the bat merely inches from breaking the boy’s nose, for he heard something other than the panting and screaming of his victims. Immediately he knew there could only be one person who giggled in such manner. “Jack.” He steadied the bat to the ground, sighing as he called out the name. “Oh, you always impress me, Jonathan.” The boy walked out from one of those tree trunks, the sound of him playing with his deck of cards awkwardly catching to the ear.

“… I didn’t realize you were following,” he lifted his eyes, not glaring but merely staring as if he was staring into air, “Not until now.” Crane seemed to be annoyed by this fact and apparently distracted, now that he was talking to Jack while ignoring all of the moaning and hallucinating bullies. “You were having fun,” Jack walked around a bit, checking the boys on the ground, laughing as he heard those psychotic mumbles of fear, poking one of them just to invoke a loud scream. “Hm. What did you do to them?” “Nothing. I gave them a ‘treat’.” Throwing the baseball bat aside, Crane walked over to Jack, rubbing dirt and mud off his face as he watched Jack further torture the gassed boys. He laughed, it was so easy.

“Meh, I bet I would not want your ‘treats’.” Jack turned and looked him in the eyes, Crane shrugged and smirked. “Oh, you have no idea.” So they left the woods, leaving the boys there to take care of themselves. It was just easy to pull a grin when he was with Jack, whatever reason it was. He simply grinned all the way as they walked, watching the psychotic Jack bouncing and humming all the way.


	4. Chapter 4

How did they become like this? Crane could not remember himself being sane at all; perhaps it was hard to think about his past while he was watching his toxin torturing someone. He was hurt, blood streaming down his face and he would wipe it away if it made him uncomfortable; but then he had his mask on, he could not do anything about that but tolerate. He did not quite enjoy the screaming today, somehow it bothered him. Something did not seem right.

Jack did not seem right for the whole week. They still met up and talked, sharing their little ruthless pranks, laughing until they fall on their backs, breathlessly grinning at each other. Not that they would speak of it, but Crane could tell those were the times they truly enjoyed. Not directly related to violence, though inevitably involving imaginations of their twisted minds and their selected victims.

“You are a strange one,” Jack once said, running his hand back and forth in Crane’s hair with a wide grin as Jonathan was laughing so hard at the joke of a server being served on the plate, “Aren’t you ever disgusted at what I said? I’m personally really feeling sick at that idea.” Crane smirked, shoving the hand away yet it always came back, making him giggle over the childish behavior of the other boy, “Oh, you hope you are. We are not that different, you know.” Reaching up Jonathan buried his slim fingers into those dark locks, pulling them as Jack smirk at his action.

Jonathan knew, they were not ready for that kind of prank yet. Perhaps taking lives could not be considered as merely a prank. They would laugh about the cruel ideas; fantasizing about them, yet not being able to perform it. Perhaps one day they would, Jonathan thought as his hand slid to caress Jack’s face, them leaning closer and closer both carrying a grin on their lips, then softly they let their lips meet.

Then one action following the other, the two boys ended up doing so much more than exchanging their temperature on the lips. They did not speak about it, no discussion over what the one time they got intimate meant. But then the intimacy remained, somehow, even though they both claimed not having the capacity care and the ability to be close to somebody. How could Crane fool himself? He was good at reading minds; he was so aware of his waving emotions every time he saw Jack after that, so aware of his own happiness as they end up kissing roughly in some hidden corners of the campus.

“Oh, shut up.” He kicked the mewling victim by the head, then taking off his mask after making sure he had fainted. The blood trail had already ran dry on his face, rubbing the clotted blood off his face, he turned and quickly exited the complex, heading to his own room. Then he remembered the reason why things felt wrong. He had not seen Jack for days, not even a single note was left for him. Not that Jack was not strong enough to protect himself, but Crane did occasionally notice the bruises he tried to hide underneath his sleeves.

Crane knew what that implied. He knew it, because just before his grandmother died, he had the same problem too. So as Jack did not show up for school, nor did he show up anywhere in his usual places, Crane could not help but worry. It was the worst when it was your family; you somehow just could not fight back or hide, not until once blood rage consumed you and made you kill. It always ended up the worst yet there was nothing one could do to stop it.

Where did Jack live? Crane happened to have known for once he broke into the school office for blue prints but then as his eyes scanned over the opened drawer with the tag ‘J’, he suddenly had the impulse to take a sneak peek at his own files. Then he ended up reading more than his own files, for their names happened to begin with the same letter. He knew his full name by then and also the address of the boy’s. He never thought he would be going there. He always kept a line that he thought he would never cross. Yet he was concerned.

Life was never the same after they met. They altered the previously fixed route of each other’s life without even noticing; yet then they were unaware how they took each other for granted, not until one of them disappeared without saying a word. Crane wondered if the other boy had been thinking the same, all this time they had not seen nor talked to each other. Did he somehow miss him?

Walking on those unfamiliar streets, Crane kept checking the street number, being nervous that he might have missed the block where Jack lived in. He was nervous, pulling the hood up to veil his face, fearing that he would run into Jack’s father and that it would piss Jack off. As he walked lowering his head, he accidentally tripped over, nearly hitting the concrete floor with his face. But instead, he fell into a warm touch, so firmly the person held him that he did not even need to worry about falling. Somebody laughed from behind, calling him a faggot. Then Crane heard the familiar voice, the voice he missed so much, snapping with rage, “Say that again and I will break your nose.”

He lifted his head while he got on his feet, now looking back at the boys laughing at them both he figured it was their feet on which he tripped. He saw the rage rising in Jack’s eyes so he grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly to calm him. Jack glanced at him, then he ran his thumb over Jonathan’s hand before letting go, throwing an arm around the skinny boy’s shoulder and turning to walk away. They were still laughing, calling them names loudly. Jonathan wanted to say something, but then Jack whispered, “Don’t look back. We don’t need more trouble.”

So silently he walked as Jack led the way, crossing roads which Jonathan had never seen before, his eyes glimmering with curiosity. He did not ask where they were going; not that he did not think about it, but he would patiently wait until Jack was ready to show him. He suddenly remembered the bruises he saw last time, abruptly he rolled Jack’s sleeve up, ignoring the other boy’s slight protest as he checked the arm. No new bruises, that was comforting though surprising.

Finally they stood in front of an abandoned factory, following Jack as he opened the lock without effort, Jonathan grinned as the lights were turned on, and showing the ‘studio’ Jack had there. “A nice place.” “Thank you.” Jack was there fetching his skateboard, which made Jonathan grin even more. “You never run out of tricks to impress me, do you?” “Well, I try to please, my dear.” Laughing, he got on the board and started circling Jonathan, “Want to try?”

They had such a great time being teacher and student, laughing throughout the whole ‘lesson’ and forgetting what they had been through for some luxurious hours. “Why were you there?” Grinning as Jonathan finally succeeded to stay on the board without falling, Jack asked, that question was in his head all this time. “I was looking for you, Jack.” Jonathan stopped the board as he got next to Jack, then standing and looking Jack in the eyes. Jack did not ask how he knew his address, for that does not matter.

“I should go now.” Breaking the silence, Jonathan returned the skateboard to the taller boy, then picking up his stuff, getting ready to leave. “Need me to walk you home?” Teasingly Jack asked, making both of them laugh. “Do I look like I need company?” Turning to look at Jack as he walked towards the door, Jonathan smirked, “See you later.”

Staring at the boy’s back, Jack watched him approaching the door and sliding it open, the sound of metal screeching filling the place. “Hey,” then he got on the board again, skating straight to the door and catching Jonathan by the waist; Jonathan gasped in surprise while Jack landed as the board hit the door, making a loud noise. “What now?” Leaning into the touch on his waist, Jonathan was grinning widely and let his finger brush across that beautiful jaw line of Jack’s. “I decided to give you a ride but my ‘vehicle’ probably can’t take the two of us. I could only walk you home.”

“Don’t,” Jonathan paused, waiting for that faint trace of disappointment before continuing he sentence, “Don’t just walk me home. Come home with me.” They looked at each other, their grins widened. Perhaps they could enjoy the time they get to forget about their past, and simply relax once in a while.


	5. Chapter 5

“Why did you pick a bakery?” So the school thought that it was important for its students to gain social experiences, and everybody was subject to its mercy. Jack never planned to obey; not to any authority, not to anyone. For all this time he was quite certain that Jonathan would be the same, yet the boy told him that he would start helping in a small bakery just a few blocks away from the campus. “I like bread, my favourite food.” Jonathan smirked, taking the unlit cigarette from Jack and holding it between his teeth, imitating how Jack smoked.

“Bullshit,” Jack chuckled, taking out another cigarette and lit it, slowly inhaling and exhaling as Jonathan watched, “I guess you’re not telling me the truth, then?” “You’re so smart, why won’t you figure it out yourself?” Jonathan leant closer and let the ends of their cigarettes meet, grinning as his cigarette was lit by Jack’s. “Slowly,” Jack mumbled, advising the boy who was probably smoking for the first time, “Really slowly or you’ll choke.” Jonathan had his eyes fixated onto the taller boy, listening to him as always, he took a slow deep mouthful of the cigarette and still choked. “What did I tell you?” They laughed and then the topic was once being left alone. Jack knew Jonathan must have plans in his little head and he was sure to make sure he would get to see the show. They ended up exchanging touches here and there while carefully holding the cigarette, with Jonathan trying not to choke again on the smoke; that merely lasted a few more minutes, just until Jack put out both their cigarettes and pinned the slender boy underneath him.

The placement started, Jonathan enjoyed his time as he would come into the bakery and be surrounded with all the baked goods. He had to admit it was boring, afternoons without Jack’s accompany, but then it was not for long. In the first week of placement, Jack would simply wait for him in the diner at the corner of the street and share a meal with Jonathan as he finished his time. Jack waited for any abnormalities because of Jonathan’s arrival, but then the first week was at most calm. “You’re not trying to be a good boy, are you?” Jack pinched Jonathan’s nose and laughed as the boy fought back, his nose all red, “So what should I be expecting, doc?” Jonathan hissed, reaching out to pinch Jack but his wrist being caught in midair, the two boys were just playing in the others’ eyes. “Just wait for it,” Jonathan settled as Jack stuffed some French fries in his mouth, the taller boy giggling as he took a sip of his coke and the slender one munching on the fries while his blue eyes glared.

“Jonathan, could you hand me the powder sugar?” Jonathan found himself staring at the sink as he was washing the mugs, the running water leaving his hands ice cold and the fingernails with a tinge of purple. “Um, sure,” he pulled up a hindered grin and dried his hands, extending his arm over the side bench he grabbed the packet of powder sugar, his eyes glimmering with a dangerous spark. “Thank you,” the young lady beamed at Jonathan, not having any idea what the good looking temp had in his mind. Jonathan was good at convincing the others, mostly due to his advantage on appearance; he was the type which induced the desire to protect in people. Few knew about the true face of his, except those who were his victims, or the one who was different. “Hmmm,” Jonathan heard the humming, so he turned, seeing the girl licking the powder sugar off her finger, seemingly enjoying the sweetness, “These taste sweeter than before!” “Is it good?” Jonathan asked, putting the coffee mugs up on the rack, lining them up with the ears at a slight angle. “So much better in fact. These donut balls are going to be sold in the blink of an eye!”

Jonathan laughed softly at the over dramatic statement and stepped out of the counter, going to rearranged the baked goods in the shop. Just half an hour to go, he thought as he glanced at the wall clock, a soft smile crept on his lips as he pictured the upcoming date he would have in the diner. He simply could not fight the feeling which made his knees grow weak. Jonathan merely turned around for a brief second and then a jump scare got him. “Hey,” A low voice rang next to his ear, a voice so familiar and close to him, making the boy shiver from inside. “Jack,” it did not take Jonathan time to recognize the boy’s voice, with a smirk Jonathan turned around and playfully elbowed the taller boy. “Nice to see you too,” Jack laughed at the hit, grabbing Jonathan on a chokehold. “Let go of me!” Jonathan laughed as well, their laughter raising the attention of the girl who peeked from the kitchen and nearly squealing at what she had seen. Jack glanced at the girl, then throwing a suspicious glance at Jonathan; Jonathan cocked an eyebrow at him, then no words were needed.

Jonathan told the girl Jack was his friend, while Jack responded with a suggestive grunt and pinching Jonathan’s behind while enjoying the fact that Jonathan could do nothing but swallow his surprised squeal. The girl seemed to be dazzled somehow, for some reason which both boys were in no way interested in knowing; Jonathan raised his brows and gave Jack a look as the girl tried to convince Jack the buy some of those freshly made donut balls. “They sure look good,” Jack said, his eyes scanning those mouthwatering treats while noticing the white powder all over the small donuts, “But I have to say I’m here for the croissants. Chocolate croissants, yummy.” “Grab one for me too. I’ll see you in… fifteen minutes.” The last fifteen minutes of work should not be long, but now that Jack had showed himself, Jonathan was hoping he could just run now, bread compared with Jack, the boy obviously had his priorities sorted out. “You and Jonathan,” the girl asked as Jack picked two croissants and pulled out a note to pay, her following question caught Jack’s attention, if not by the mere mentioning of Jonathan’s name, “You two, um, seem close?” Jack suppressed a grin, pursing his lips, he accepted the changed and hummed softly before answering with a teasing wink, “Closer than you can imagine.” The girl did not expect that answer not the wink, for a few moments she stood there with flushed cheeks and in shock. Jack laughed as he turned away, casually brushing his fingers over Jonathan’s cheekbones before leaving the bakery.

“Smartass, you heard that, didn’t you?” At the said time Jonathan had changed and arrived at the diner, where Jack had been there stuffing fries into his mouth. Jack was quite certain that Jonathan did not miss that question; Jonathan would never miss anything which happened around him. Settling in the bench with Jack, Jonathan did not care about the stares he got for sitting close to Jack; he even provokingly leant against Jack and whispered in his ear, “I also heard your reply. Being talkative, are you?” Jack’s glance swayed from person to person, a slip of rancor showing from his glare, which threatened those judgmental people to look away. “What? You can’t blame me for showing off, you should see how her eyes glued to you all that time.” “And you not realizing how she almost threw herself on you as you showed up?” “Really? Wasn’t that you?” Catching the boy’s pale wrists, Jack chuckled and turned the boy around, so the struggling Jonathan could only be leaning on his chest and wriggling in vain. “Now who’s all over me?” “Not me. Not yet.” The hint was quite obvious and the boys exchanged a naughty look before getting back to focus on their meal.

Jack was waiting for Jonathan to tell him about the day, but the boy did not seem to be in a sharing mood at all. So he waited until the meal was over, and that they already had their drinks refilled twice. “Care to share now, doctor?” Jonathan smirked and raised an eyebrow, wiping his hands and mouth clean, “It’s about time the bakery closes. Perhaps we’ll just casually walk pass it as we take our long walk back home?” They both agreed on the plan, so with slow steps they walked their way back to the corner of the street where the bakery stood, holding the chocolate croissant in their hands. Staring from over the pavement, the two boys were enjoying their treats, waiting for something to happen.

There was that girl inside the bakery, her silhouette moving under the single lit light from the kitchen, clearing trays and arranging them on the racks in order. They were patient, especially Jonathan, who knew very well what he was waiting for. Then they saw the silhouette move over to the corner, somehow standing there with the head lowered. “Ah,” Jonathan laughed softly, licking off the chocolate on his fingertips, “She really loved those donut balls.” “Never knowing what this young pretty boy had put in that powder sugar.” Jack finished Jonathan’s sentence and smirked at the boy with a sense of pride, which attitude was obviously in Jonathan’s taste. “Hmmmm… You impress me.” Chuckling softly, the two tried not to laugh too loud as they saw how the girl started to knock over things, seemingly horrified. A loud shriek was heard as the silhouette ducked down, accompanied with the sound of kitchenware hitting the ground.

“And you’re still going back to work tomorrow?” Laughing manically, Jack could barely walk in a straight line as they left the corner of the street and heading back to their place for the night; Jonathan was laughing as well, almost drawing tears. “Why would I not? That was barely half the effect,” turning to face Jack, Jonathan pursed his lips and then pulled up a playful grin, “You are welcome to taste that powder sugar if you’re interested. I was told they were delicious.” Jack snorted, shaking his head as he took the boy’s hand, not entirely sure why he did that but nonetheless finding the touch pleasant. “Nah, I wouldn’t risk it. You could let me taste something else, something better.” Humming ambiguously, Jonathan held onto that hand without saying a word.


End file.
